


Employee of the Month

by monsterhugger



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bad Workplace Relationships, Betrayal, Eye Horror, Implied use of Beholding Powers, Multi, Polyamory, Rated M for Light Sexual Content, See author's note for warnings, Unhealthy Relationships, body hopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterhugger/pseuds/monsterhugger
Summary: Elias Bouchard has never managed to hold down a job for very long, but he's doing quite well at the Magnus Institute.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonah Magnus, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Peter Lukas/Jonah Magnus, Peter Lukas/Jonah Magnus/Elias Bouchard
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	Employee of the Month

**Author's Note:**

> James Wright is Jonah Magnus's identity prior to Elias Bouchard. Jonah Magnus makes it very hard to properly tag characters and relationships :p
> 
>  **Warnings:**  
>  -VERY LIGHT sexual content (mentions of nudity+sexual fantasies/acts, nothing is described in detail). All sex is consensual but there's a definite power dynamic at play.  
> -One use of the word "queer" in a less than ideal context  
> -Eye trauma  
> -Canon-compliant major character death(?)
> 
> This is about twice as long as I thought it would be. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!

Elias Bouchard was a young man with unruly brown hair and soft brown eyes and an apparent hatred of any clothing more formal than a polo shirt. His official job title was “filing clerk”, though what he actually did consisted mostly of lounging around in an office chair, drinking tea which more often than not contained a few drops of alcohol from a flask he kept in the pocket of his khakis, and reading over whatever statements he found interesting before haphazardly tossing them into whichever drawer he saw first. That was, if he even looked for a drawer-there was currently a sizable pile of papers and folders which he’d read and then been too lazy to put away. He had a habit of mouthing off to anyone and everyone who so much as asked him to pass the salt, and he had quite the foul mouth at that. He would certainly have been fired had he worked at any other establishment, in fact he’d been barred from employment at nearly every chain restaurant and grocery store within ten miles of his flat after insulting bosses and customers alike.

It wasn’t like Elias was under any delusion that he was a nice person to be around. His parents had harboured a hefty amount of disdain for him, and while Elias wasn’t entirely sure if this was the result of his unpleasant demeanor or the cause of it, he certainly didn’t mind when they cut contact with him after he moved out. He hadn’t even considered going to uni, and the rotation of minimum wage jobs had kept him in just enough money to afford a small, dingy flat and enough microwave meals that he didn’t starve. His encounter with the Magnus Institute was pure happenstance, really.

Like most people’s introduction to the Institute, it had started with an unpleasant experience, though it was an experience Elias had had several times before. He’d been asked to stock the freezer aisle in the supermarket where he’d been working for only a few weeks, and after twenty minutes of standing in front of the freezing chambers, condensation clinging to his skin, he’d gotten fed up and drawn a cock in Sharpie on one of the doors before going out to have a smoke. When he returned, his manager was holding a towel and a bottle of cleaning solution and looking at him with utter contempt. There was no point in denying he had done it, it certainly wasn’t the sweet old man who’d been stocking the baking aisle or the tired cashiers who hadn’t been able to leave their posts since the early morning. He took the towel and cleaning solution from her angrily, stomping back to the frozen foods aisle without a word. He wasn’t sure what the point was, he doubted he still had a job after this, but his rent had just gone up and even the small possibility that he’d have a job after this wasn’t something he could just throw away.

As he’d stood there slowly wiping down the freezer door, he’d gotten the acute sense someone was watching him. It was this cold, itching sensation on the back of his neck, like this person’s gaze was crawling up his body. Like whoever was staring at him meant him harm. He looked in the reflection of the freezer door and saw a man in a suit and tie standing behind him. The man was no taller than he was, and didn’t look particularly threatening. He was just standing there and staring at Elias. Elias paused his cleaning, standing perfectly still and watching the man behind him. Neither of them moved for several minutes. Eventually, Elias worked up the nerve to turn around and address the man behind him.

“Can I help you?” he asked, somewhat sarcastically.

The man’s expression was completely blank. He made cold, unblinking eye contact with Elias, his eyes a menacing shade of green unlike anything Elias had seen in any human eyes before. He had the uncanny feeling that the man’s eyes didn’t fit properly in his face, though he couldn’t quite explain how. Almost like they were set too deeply in his head, or perhaps not deeply enough, as if they’d been placed there like square pegs in round holes, forced into sockets not designed to hold them. It made his staring all the more unsettling, and Elias wanted to look away, but he couldn’t bear to turn his head.

“You’re looking for work, aren’t you?” the man said.

“No. I work _here_ , actually,” Elias retorted.

“I doubt that,” the man smiled, gesturing at the defaced freezer behind Elias. “Besides, I have a job offer that pays far better than this pitiful work.”

Elias scowled at him, but the man’s expression didn’t waver.

“You’ve heard of the Magnus Institute, haven’t you?”

“I suppose.” He’d heard of the Magnus Institute, sure, usually in the context of mad people going there to spout their ghost stories to whoever would listen and confirm their delusions. They apparently had a sizable library as well, though it wasn’t open to the public. Elias wasn’t an academic, and he wasn’t a superstitious loon either, so he’d never had any reason to enter the Institute, but he wasn’t going to turn down a high-paying job just because it might mean catering to unpleasant sorts of people. Being an unpleasant sort of person himself, Elias didn’t discriminate. He’d likely get into a spat with someone and end up fired within the month, but that had never stopped him before.

“We’ve recently had a position as a filing clerk in our Archives open up,” the man explained. “You seem like the type who might appreciate that kind of work.”

Elias wanted to ask him more questions, but instead he felt himself shrinking away from the man, backing himself against the cold freezer door. The man’s smile was deeply unsettling, never quite seeming to reach his eyes, and he was starting to make Elias very uncomfortable.

“Sure,” Elias said, his voice shaking.

“Good, good,” the man replied. He held out a business card printed on dark gray paper, and Elias took it gingerly. He shoved it into his pocket, never breaking eye contact with the man as he did so. They spent another few minutes staring at each other before the man abruptly turned and walked away, leaving Elias to continue cleaning the freezer door.

Elias didn’t go in to work the next morning. He doubted he still had a job anyway, and the prospects of working at the Magnus Institute were far more intriguing than stocking shelves and pointing customers toward the bread aisle for an entire day. He put on the nicest clothes he owned-a light blue button-up and a pair of relatively new jeans-and walked down to the Institute.

It was only when the woman who greeted him at the door asked him what he was there for that he realized he’d never gotten the man’s name. He’d kept the business card in his pocket so he could remember the address of the Institute, but that was the only bit of helpful information on the card, and even that was difficult to read.

“I’m here for a job interview,” he replied, hoping this would at least narrow it down. “Or… I may just be applying? The man who invited me wasn’t clear.”

The woman nodded as if she understood completely.

“Right this way,” she said, leading Elias down a lengthy corridor and knocking on an imposing metal door at the end.

The man who opened the door was in fact the same man he’d seen the previous day. His eyes locked onto Elias’s eyes immediately, tunneling into his consciousness. He still couldn’t shake the idea that the man meant him harm, though he had really done nothing to indicate this.

“Mr. Bouchard,” the man said, reaching out a hand. Elias shook it, realizing abruptly that he hadn’t given this man his name either. He thought briefly that the man had sought him out somehow, finding his name and figuring out where he worked before inviting him in for an interview. Then he remembered the name tag he’d had to wear at the grocery store. He audibly sighed with relief. That must’ve been it.

“I’m here for an interview?” Elias said, still not entirely sure if that was what this was.

“Yes, yes,” the man replied, as if Elias had just told him the sky was blue for the fifteenth time that day. “Come right in.”

The office was minimal, a simple wooden desk in the center with a single chair behind it and a metal filing cabinet in the corner. Elias realized there wasn’t a place for him to sit, so he just stood in front of the desk as the man sat down in front of him.

“You look nice today,” the man said.

“Er… thank you?”

“You’re interested in a job at the Institute.”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Have you got a resume I can look at?”

Elias cursed himself for not thinking to do the most basic of things before he went out.

“Not… not with me.”

“Ah. That won’t be a problem.” The man smiled gently at him. It still didn’t reach his eyes.

“I can give you some references, if you like,” Elias offered.

“That won’t be necessary,” the man said. “Besides, I doubt you’d want me hearing from your former employers, if your behaviour yesterday is any indication.”

“No, I suppose not,” Elias muttered.

The man tapped his fingers against his desk for a few moments, the plastered-on smile fading from his face.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked.

Elias paused. He’d been asked odd questions at interviews before, most of which he’d given somewhat dismissive answers, but this was a new one.

“Girls,” he replied after a few moments of thought. “I’m scared of girls. That’s why I’m so alone.” He held up his arms in a mock of a placating gesture.

The man chuckled softly.

“I see.”

A minute or so of silence passed, the man staring intently at Elias and Elias wondering if he should say more.

“Anything else I can get for you?” he asked after the man’s piercing gaze had started to make him feel sick to his stomach.

“No, I don’t think so. You’ve done quite well, Mister Bouchard. You can even start today if you’d like.”

Elias stuttered, somewhat taken aback by this. It all seemed too easy, too good to be true.

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll have Ms. Robinson show you around.”

“Great! I mean, this is great, thank you!” Elias exclaimed. He turned to leave, but the man stopped him.

“One more thing,” he said, his voice suddenly deeper and more threatening.

“Yes?”

“Your cigarette lighter. I need you to give it to me.”

Elias narrowed his eyes.

“Why?”

“We deal with a lot of flammable materials here in the Archive,” the man explained. “I’m not keen on any sort of fire risk being brought into the building, you understand.”

Elias nodded, reluctantly digging his lighter out of his back pocket. It was quite small and flat, and he wondered how the man had even seen it. Still, he supposed the pay was good enough he could live without smoke breaks.

Gertrude Robinson was nice enough. She was a bit cold, but she didn’t seem sinister as the interviewer had. Elias would later learn the interviewer’s name was James Wright, and he was in fact the head of the Institute.

Gertrude and James tolerated Elias far more than any bosses he’d had before. Gertrude seemed to resent her work even more than Elias did, and while she didn’t outright neglect it she hardly made an effort. Elias’s habit of tossing statements wherever he pleased seemed to go entirely unnoticed by her, as she seemed to follow a similar practice herself. In fact, most of the really exciting statements Elias found were left strewn about on desks or under chairs or misfiled in folders along with more mundane statements, seemingly anywhere besides where they were supposed to be. He’d considered that Gertrude just had an extremely complicated filing system, but the one time he had asked her where to put a file she had simply shrugged and said “wherever you like, I don’t give a damn.” Elias had tossed it onto the pile on his desk without much thought, forgetting about it entirely by the next day.

He didn’t forget the statements themselves, of course. While he certainly didn’t believe in any of the paranormal claims, and he certainly wasn’t worried about a ghost sneaking into his bed at night, the tales of maulings, flayings, slaughterings, and brutality of all sorts tended to stick in his head. It didn’t matter whether the man who ripped the bones from his children’s fingers did so because a ghost told him to or because he was sick in the head, it was ghastly to read either way. In fact, the idea that people were doing these things independent of supernatural influence was perhaps more terrifying than if they had been possessed. Still, Elias refused to believe in the supernatural. No matter how many statement givers and Institute staff disappeared under mysterious circumstances, he refused to believe it was any more than unfortunate coincidence.

James didn’t appear often enough for Elias to get on his nerves. Elias had seen him again on his second day at the institute-he’d brought his cigarette lighter in again, and James had insisted he hand it over. Elias denied it, figuring there was no way for James to know for sure he had it without literally patting him down, but James persisted. He and Elias had actually gotten into quite the shouting match, Elias insisting he had no proof and James insisting he _knew_ Elias had the lighter on him and he could either hand it over or walk right back out the door. It only ended when Gertrude walked by, angrily shouting at Elias to “just give him the bloody lighter, dammit!” before shuffling back down to the Archive. Elias had relented at that point, handing over the lighter to James. It was definitely more than enough of an uproar to justify some disciplinary action, but neither James nor Gertrude even spoke about the incident afterwards. Elias took it as good luck and continued to work as if nothing happened. If James noticed when he started bringing in his alcohol flask, he didn’t mention it.

After ten years of working at the Institute, Elias had been able to afford a much nicer flat closer to the Institute. He wasn’t fabulously wealthy by any means, but he was definitely living much better than he had constantly on and off minimum wage, and he’d finally convinced himself he couldn’t possibly be fired when his bosses were so utterly lenient. He could fall asleep at his desk for an entire day and his boss and coworkers would simply walk around him. James stayed in his own office all day anyway, so unless someone was informing on Elias’s infractions, he was none the wiser.

Still, Elias always had the feeling he was being watched. He’d checked for security cameras several times and found nothing, though it did nothing to ease his concerns. The feeling had worsened over the years, and he’d found himself checking more frequently, but his search always came up empty. He didn’t bother asking the other Institute employees how they felt. He didn’t want to seem like one of the madmen wandering through the door claiming they were being watched by spirits.

One day, however, the feeling started to become unbearable. He was sitting at his desk, combing through a statement (something about a haunted doll shop in Scotland, certainly one of the more mundane statements he’d found but there was still the potential for things to get gory at the end) when he felt that awful cold itch at the back of his neck. He was reminded of that day in the store, of James staring into him with those awful green eyes. Elias slowly turned around and was startled to actually see James behind him. He was so used to only thinking he was being watched that actually being watched felt… oddly comforting.

“You’ve been doing well, Elias,” James said.

Elias nodded. He’d been doing nothing, and he was willing to admit that to himself, but he certainly wasn’t going to tell his boss.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place for dinner tonight,” James continued. “I’ve told my partner about you and… your work. He’s very interested in meeting you.”

“Partner?” Elias asked. “Like… business partner?” He had no idea how he’d managed to work at the Institute for ten years without realizing it was co-owned, but he wouldn’t put it past himself.

“In a sense, I suppose,” James replied, smiling that awful incomplete smile.

“I mean… I’d love to join you,” Elias said. He wasn’t entirely sure what dining with his boss would entail, but judging by his dress code James was quite wealthy, and he wasn’t going to turn down a luxurious dinner.

James had denied Elias’s request to walk home with him, however. Instead, he’d given him a business card, printed on dark gray paper like the one he’d first received for the Magnus Institute those many years ago.

“Dinner is at seven,” he said firmly. “You may arrive at quarter to, but not a moment earlier. I’d like some time to get my house in order.”

Elias had arrived at 6:45 sharp. He remembered that being fashionably early was something you were supposed to do to impress rich people, and he hoped James’s insistence of “not a moment earlier” was in fact a demand and not an invitation that he should in fact arrive thirty minutes before that. He was dressed in the same clothes he wore to work, which was nothing fancy, but he’d at least combed his hair beforehand. The business card once again had only an address on it, and the house at that address was quite large and had a yard of similarly ridiculous size. He rang the bell and stood on the front porch, an enormous block of elaborate brickwork with two ornate chairs sitting in one corner.

The man who answered the door was not James. He was a large man, more than two metres tall with broad shoulders and a thick white beard. He motioned Elias into the house without a word, and Elias entered. The inside of the house was just as extravagant as the outside, velvet cushions on every bit of furniture and colourful patterned rugs all over the floor. The dining room smelled lovely, like cranberries and cinnamon and some kind of meat. Elias sat down on one of the carved wooden dining chairs, and the large man sat across from him. The table settings were glistening white china adorned with an intricate blue floral pattern, and multiple covered dishes already sat on the table.

James walked in carrying another platter, this one containing several large chunks of a wonderful smelling meat. Elias couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a true home-cooked meal, and the strangeness of the situation faded from his mind as he prepared to dig in.

James sat down at the remaining table setting and quickly took one of the platters, brushing a sizeable portion of broccoli onto his plate. The large man followed suit with a platter of potatoes. Elias looked back and forth between them, wondering what he should do. Eventually he took the platter of meat and placed a chunk of it on his plate. Neither James nor his partner objected, and the process continued, the three men silently filling their plates.

“So… you’re James’s business partner,” Elias said cautiously once all the platters had been passed around, looking cautiously up at the large man.

“Business partner?” the man said, chuckling softly and crossing his arms. “Is that what he told you, now?”

Elias turned to James. James shook his head and sighed.

“Elias, this is Peter,” James said. “My _partner._ ”

“Right. Partner,” Elias repeated. “I’m sorry, I just… thought you ran the Institute alone. I mean, Peter, I don’t know if we’ve met, but-”

“We haven’t,” Peter said, grinning beneath his beard.

“He doesn’t work for the Institute,” James said.

“Oh,” Elias muttered. “Then what did you mean by…”

“Good Lord,” James grumbled. “Elias, I’ve brought you here because you’re one of my best employees. So understand it’s not a personal insult when I say you’re being quite daft right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Elias replied. “I’m just a bit confused.”

“We’re _partners,_ ” Peter offered. “In a relationship. Having… relations.”

Elias’s face went red. He had no problem with gay people, he really didn’t, but he simply wasn’t expecting this to come up during dinner conversation. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this information either. Had they recently got together, and he was supposed to congratulate him? Was this a test by James to determine his quality as an employee?

He opted to say nothing, instead grabbing his fork and shoveling a hefty bite of potatoes into his mouth. Peter and James watched him in silence, and he felt those awful green eyes drilling into his head as he chewed.

“The potatoes are lovely,” he said after he had swallowed.

“Thank you,” James replied, his and Peter’s faces softening.

The rest of the meal was similarly pleasant. The food was delicious, especially the meat, which James had helpfully informed him was quail. Elias wasn’t quite sure what a quail was, and he didn’t want to seem any more stupid than he already had that night, but he knew he enjoyed whatever quail was and he was certain he’d never eat it again, so he helped himself to seconds. James seemed pleased at this. Most of the meal was eaten in silence, but Elias didn’t mind given that he really doubted he had much in common with his boss and his partner. He’d sat back in the wooden chair, grinning softly to himself as James cleared away the dishes.

After the table had been cleared, James asked Elias if he’d like to stay for coffee.

Elias said yes, of course, not wanting to disappoint his boss. James had returned to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with three mugs of black coffee. He didn’t offer Elias cream or sugar, and Elias didn’t ask for any, though he didn’t particularly enjoy black coffee or any coffee for that matter. This coffee was strong and dark and Elias had to stop himself from flinching as the bitterness and burning heat hit his tongue, but he choked down a few sips for James’s sake.

“I remember, when I hired you,” James began, clutching his mug of coffee in his hands. “I asked what you were afraid of, and you told me you were afraid of girls. What did you mean by that?”

“I… I was being sarcastic,” Elias said. “I’m not exactly good at job interviews.”

“Hm,” James replied, swirling the cup of coffee in his hand before taking a long sip. “See, there was a time when I would’ve said the same thing. About that age, confused and so terribly… lonely.” He glanced meaningfully at Peter.

“I’m not queer,” Elias blurted out.

“I never said you were,” James said. He was staring into Elias’s eyes now, that cold, deep stare that only James seemed to possess.

“I mean, not that I mind if you are,” Elias added. “Just not for me.”

“Have you been with anyone, since you started at the Institute?” James asked.

“Well… no. Though you’re the only employee I know of who’s actually in a relationship, so that may say more about the Institute than about me.”

James nodded, his gaze briefly shifting down into his mug and then back up at Elias.

“Would you like to be?”

“Are you propositioning me?” Elias stammered. “Because I told you, I-I’m not… this…” He gestured around the table, looking back and forth between James and Peter. “This isn’t for me”

“It wasn’t a proposition,” James said, slow and calm. “Just a question. Are you feeling alone?”

“I-I don’t know,” Elias replied. He didn’t have any friends, and he definitely hadn’t dated anyone since long before he even joined the Institute, but he wouldn’t call himself lonely. Solitary, maybe. He preferred his own flat to a night on the town or in some bar, and the thought that he hadn’t had a romantic partner in more than ten years only crossed his mind when someone brought up the subject. The company of James and Peter was enjoyable if only because it was something different, but he felt like it was leading up to a different sort of company that he definitely wasn’t interested in.

James hummed thoughtfully, nodding his head and taking another sip of his coffee. He was silent again after that, he and Peter both, and Elias couldn’t think of anything else to say. He managed to choke down the entire mug of coffee, and James took the mug from him and dutifully brought it into the kitchen.

“Peter will see you out,” he said upon returning to the dining room. Peter stood up, and Elias was suddenly reminded of the sheer bulk of his form. He stood up carefully, feeling oddly weak at the knees, though he wasn’t sure if he was just tired or if he was afraid.

Elias didn’t sleep that night. He wanted to blame the coffee, but he knew that wasn’t it. His head was spinning, still thinking about James’s question. What if he had said yes? Would James have propositioned him then? He ran that scenario over in his head, and found that he was actually relatively okay with it. He might’ve even said yes, more out of curiosity than any actual desire to participate in whatever James and Peter has planned. Elias laughed to himself at the thought, having an extravagant dinner and a round of intercourse with his boss and his partner. It would certainly be a story. A story he’d likely never tell anyone, but a fascinating story nonetheless.

When James asked him to join them for dinner again a few months later, Elias told himself he wouldn’t get cold feet this time. No getting defensive, no “I don’t know”s, just saying yes and seeing where it led to. 

They didn’t have quail that night. The meal was pork, but it was the most wonderful pork Elias had ever tasted. The meal was as quiet as ever, but Elias was sure the question would come. Once the dishes from the meal had been cleared, James asked him to stay for dessert, and Elias eagerly said yes. James had brought in three slices of a beautiful cake, and they’d eaten just as slowly and quietly as they sipped the coffee, though Elias was struggling to not shovel it into his mouth like an eager child.

The question did come, of course. Only a few bites of cake remained, and Elias felt those green eyes digging into his soul. He looked up at James, meeting his eyes purposefully despite how much they unsettled him.

“Are you feeling alone?” James asked.

“Yes,” Elias replied. “Yes, I am.”

James grinned.

“You wouldn’t perhaps be interested in some… company?”

“What sort of company?”

“The sort only a real man can provide.”

Elias was getting frustrated. Sure, he probably shouldn’t expected “I’d like to have sex with you,” but he got the distinct sense James was dodging his advances. Maybe he’d gotten it wrong. Maybe he’d misread the situation entirely, maybe James wasn’t propositioning him at all and he really did just want to have dinner with his favourite employee, though Elias still wasn’t sure why he’d been given that designation. He wondered briefly if James did this with all his employees, though he hadn’t heard anyone else speak about it, and it seemed out of character for the man. And maybe some part of Elias wanted to feel special. If James wanted him, surely that meant he was worth something.

“I know what I said last time,” Elias said. “But I’ve… done some thinking. And if you’re asking me what I think you’re asking, the answer is yes. Yes, I’d like to try that.”

James sat back in his chair, taking his last bite of cake and chewing it slowly and meaningfully, never breaking eye contact with Elias as he did so. When he swallowed, he nodded, resting his hand on the table. Peter placed his own hand on top of his, his own gaze firmly fixed on Elias.

“Would you like to come upstairs with us?” James asked.

“Yes.”

“Good, good. On you go, then.”

Elias stood and followed Peter and James, leaving the last bit of his cake sitting on the table. The stairwell seemed impossibly long, winding upwards towards the top floor of the house, and Elias felt like even the imposing house he’d seen when he walked in couldn’t contain a stairwell this high, but maybe that was the anticipation talking.

They laid him down on an enormous bed in a room with elaborate wallpaper, lit only by a dim yellow lamp. The quilt was cold against his back as he was undressed, Peter’s large hands moving and manipulating his body like a doll. James ran a hand through his messy brown hair, looking down at him with what might have been a gentle, loving expression if it reached his eyes. The bed was large enough that James and Peter could both crawl into it next to him and fit quite comfortably, their own nude bodies pressed against his, two sets of hands stroking every inch of his skin. Elias shook with anticipation. It was all so exciting, the gentle touches moving ever closer to the sensitive parts of him, and Elias had to stop himself from squirming. He didn’t know what he’d expected this to feel like, but it was far more pleasant than he’d let himself anticipate.

“Your first time, then,” James whispered into his ear. Elias nodded, and he heard Peter hum approvingly. “Don’t worry. You’ll love it.”

And Elias did love it. It took a few minutes for him to adjust to it, the sensation was unlike anything he’d felt before and it had come with the slightest hint of pain, but James had kissed his forehead and stroked his hair and whispered softly into his ear the whole time. Once he’d gotten over the initial shock, Elias thoroughly enjoyed it. Peter and James even stayed alongside him afterwards, curling up next to him and wiping hot tears from his face. Elias wasn’t crying out of pain, though now that it was over he definitely noticed the dull ache inside him. He was just feeling so much, his head was swimming with incoherent but pleasant thoughts and his entire body was a mess of sensation as James and Peter touched him. He’d been panting and whimpering practically since they’d brought him to the bedroom, and he didn’t bother trying to stifle the noises as Peter and James seemed to smile softly whenever he made an especially loud one.

He didn’t know how long he spent lying there between the two men. There wasn’t a clock in the room that he could see, and it had already been very dark outside when they’d gone upstairs so he couldn’t judge it by the setting sun. He wasn’t in any hurry to leave either, if James noticed how tired he was at work the next day Elias was sure he’d understand. Eventually, Peter rolled out of bed and picked up the pile of Elias’s clothes, offering them to him. Elias took his time sitting up, it felt weird to be moving his own body after what seemed like hours of being lovingly manhandled. He pulled his wrinkled clothes back on, waiting for James and Peter to follow suit, but they remained nude, watching Elias intently as he dressed and then leaned back into the pillows. James reached the nightstand drawer and pulled something out of it, holding it out to Elias. It was a necklace, thick black string with a gold pendant on the end in the shape of an eye. In the center of the eye was a bright green gem that seemed a bit too big for the thin metal wires that held it in place. It reminded Elias of James’s eyes, sitting precariously in their ill-fitting sockets.

“For you,” James said, holding the necklace by its string. Elias reached out to take it, but instead James reached out, placing the string over his head. The eye pendant was heavy against Elias’s chest.

“Thank you,” he said softly, reaching up and touching the gem at the center of the eye. It was warm.

“Keep it. So you remember I’m always with you.”

Elias nodded. He figured that was supposed to sound sweet, but he couldn’t help but feel like it was creepy. The man was still his boss after all, regardless of that night’s events.

“Peter will see you out,” James said. Peter took Elias by the hand and pulled him out of bed. He walked him down the stairs, holding tightly to his hand the whole time. The stairs felt shorter on the way down.

Elias wore the necklace into work the next day, tucking it under his shirt. He expected the metal to feel cold against his chest, but it was actually pleasantly warm. He found its presence comforting, though the feeling of being watched was distinctly worse that day.

His dinners with James and Peter continued, though they never got more frequent. He’d wait months in between, his desperation growing as the days dragged on, and each time just as he was beginning to consider asking James if he could come over James would arrive at his desk, asking him with a distinct syrupy sweetness if he wanted to come over for dinner. It was always worth the wait, the meals rich and decadent and the sex absolutely perfect. Elias never found himself asking for more, James and Peter always seemed to know exactly what he needed and would give it to him in spades. It got more intense, definitely, as Elias shook off any last traces of apprehension and his fantasies became more vulgar and unconventional, and every time James and Peter managed to fulfill those fantasies in the most wonderful ways without him ever having to state them aloud. He didn’t question how they knew. He feared that questioning it would make it stop.

He didn’t question it when Peter called James “Jonah”. It happened several times over the years, usually when things got intense and even Peter began to lose his composure. James-or, well, Jonah-never seemed to waver, no matter how intense the act. The only time he so much as flinched was when Elias decided to call him Jonah, but that was only the first time, and every time after that he’d smile his empty-eyed smile and plant a kiss on Elias’s forehead before continuing whatever sort of activity they were currently engaged in.

The only thing they wouldn’t do was blindfold him. Elias didn’t notice it at first, but once he realized just how close to his fantasies those nights with Jonah and Peter were the discrepancy struck him. It wasn’t a particularly important detail. The idea of being blinded and completely at their mercy was certainly enticing, but being made to watch everything they did was just as tantalizing. He didn’t ask to be blindfolded, not wanting to break the dynamic of having his deepest fantasies fulfilled without ever having to so much as state them aloud. Besides, next to everything they actually did to him, a blindfold seemed insultingly trivial.

The years at the Institute flowed together, Elias marking the passage of time only by the days he spent with Jonah and Peter and the agonizing months in between. Elias didn’t get better at his job. If anything, he got worse, spending an excessive amount of time staring off into space and imagining all the wonderful things his boss could be doing to him in that moment. If Gertrude noticed his falling performance, she didn’t care. She was more focused on other Institute employees, the ones who always seemed to go missing after only a few years of work. This had Elias entirely convinced that he was, in fact, special. Jonah had picked him, not anyone else, to be saved from the dangers of the Archive. He was Jonah’s favourite, his special little employee, and he would be given everything he wanted because Jonah loved him.

Still, it was a surprise to Elias when Jonah brought up the idea of promoting him.

Jonah had visibly aged in the years since he’d started at the Institute, his hair fading to a light silvery gray and his eyes fitting even less properly in his wrinkled face. It hadn’t slowed him down, that was for sure, though Elias wasn’t actually sure what sort of work being head of the Magnus Institute entailed, so maybe his prowess in bed didn’t actually say much about his efficiency at his job. Maybe it was strange to go from being a filing clerk to head of the Institute, but as Jonah’s favourite employee Elias figured it made sense for him to be a prime candidate for the job.

He was giddy when Jonah asked him to join him for dinner to discuss his promotion. Of course it wasn’t just the promotion that excited him, but the extra dose of anticipation had him practically shaking throughout dinner. He’d asked about the promotion, about what exactly the new job would entail, but Jonah dismissed his questions, telling him they’d discuss it after dinner. Elias was irritated at this. After dinner was the time for laying in that lovely bed and having his every wish fulfilled, not for discussing matters of employment. Even if he was excited about the promotion, it certainly wasn’t a substitute.

Once the dishes were cleared, Peter brought him into the living room and sat him down on an ornate wooden chair with soft velvet cushions. It was unusual, but Elias’s excitement returned in droves when he saw Peter pull two lengths of silk ribbon out of his breast pocket. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen that ribbon, and it was a reassurance that all was well and he would get what he was owed.

“Jonah’s just finishing up the dishes,” Peter explained as he tied Elias’s hands to the arms of the chair. Elias wondered why he wasn’t asked to undress first, but he didn’t question it. “We’ve got something wonderful planned for you tonight. Be a good boy, okay?”

Elias nodded eagerly. He didn’t need to be told to be good, he’d take whatever was given to him because all of it was wonderful, but knowing he was a good boy felt good. He _was_ a good boy for Jonah and Peter. He was still the same defiant prick around everyone else, but with Jonah and Peter he was sweet and obedient and lovely. It felt better to comply with them than to mouth off at them, it felt good to submit to their whims, especially since those whims more often than not aligned with his own desires. Peter stroked his hair while Jonah finished up the dishes, and Elias twitched with anticipation when he heard the faucet shut off.

He should have known something was amiss when Jonah walked in holding a grapefruit spoon.

Jonah was old, but he wasn’t senile. If he was holding something, it was for a reason, he meant to have it, it was important. Elias wasn’t sure what a grapefruit spoon would be used for in this context, but he found himself getting excited about whatever it was. Jonah would treat him well, he was sure of it. He would make him feel so incredibly good.

“There you are,” Jonah said, grinning. His eyes looked especially vacant lately, the way his skin hung off his face made it even more obvious that they didn’t fit in their sockets. Elias could never bring himself to get used to those eyes. He’d gotten to know both Jonah and Peter quite intimately over the years, and was quite fond of several aspects of both men’s bodies, but those eyes still disturbed him.

“I told you we’d be discussing your promotion,” Jonah continued, tapping the spoon against his palm. “You’ve been a lovely employee, Elias. I always knew, since I first laid eyes on you, that you’d take my place someday.”

He walked closer to Elias, pressing the spoon against his cheek, just below his eye.

“This body is aging, you see,” Jonah said, gesturing at himself. “I don’t know how much longer it’s going to be around, so I figured I should find a replacement as soon as possible.”

Elias was confused by his phrasing. It should’ve been another red flag, but he was far too excited to worry.

“I have told you how pretty you are,” Jonah said. “I told you on your first day at the Institute, if memory serves. I told you you looked nice, at least. You thought I meant your clothes, but I was hardly impressed by your wrinkled shirt and ugly jeans. It was your body I was interested in, it always was. I’d practically made my decision that day, but this was what really sealed the deal. I knew the moment you were undressed that I’d found the perfect replacement.”

He pressed the spoon harder into Elias’s cheek, the serrated tip pushing against his eyelid.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had fun. I’ve never trained a replacement with such… fascinating fantasies before. Though I really wish you’d stop thinking about me blindfolding you. It’s a bit insulting, knowing you wouldn’t like to see me.”

He ran his fingers through Elias’s hair. There was a thin streak of gray towards the front, but that was all.

“How long has it been?” Jonah asked. “Almost twenty years now, I believe. The years have been kind to you, Elias. Another point in your favour.”

The spoon pressed harder and harder against his eyelid, and Elias winced as the tip slid beneath his eye. It didn’t hurt, though he felt like it should have. It definitely wasn’t pleasant.

“You’ll make a fine replacement,” Jonah said, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek opposite the spoon. “A beautiful, beautiful replacement.”

The spoon slid deeper, and Elias felt a sudden shooting pain behind his eye. The serrated edge sliced through something, making an awful squishy tearing noise. Elias’s mouth hung open in a muffled scream as the vision faded from his eye. The vision in his remaining eye blurred as it filled with tears. He stared at Jonah, at his cold green eyes in their unsettling sockets.

Those weren’t his eyes.

Or, they were, but they were in a body that wasn’t his. Elias blinked tears from his remaining eye, staring deeper into Jonah’s eyes than he ever had before. There was nothing behind them. Elias wasn’t sure how he knew that, or how he hadn’t seen it before. Yes, he’d seen the blank expression in those eyes a thousand times over the past twenty years, he’d always known there was no emotion behind them, but there was also, physically, nothing behind those eyes. No tissue holding them in his head, no nerves connecting them to his brain, just empty space. Empty space and the torn remnants of whatever had been there prior to those eyes being placed in that body. Nothing that would allow him to see.

Jonah pulled on the grapefruit spoon, ripping Elias’s eye out of his head with an unsettling pop. He dragged his thumb over the empty socket, painful and bleeding. His awful grin never faded, never shifted. Elias felt tears running down his cheeks, and realized with horror that some of them were blood. He pulled halfheartedly at his restraints, but he knew it was pointless. He’d resigned himself to his fate, a fate that had been waiting for him since he’d first slept with Jonah and Peter, since he’d first set foot in the Magnus Institute. He whimpered as Jonah pushed the grapefruit spoon beneath his other eye. Jonah hummed softly. He’d always loved Elias’s whimpers.

Elias Bouchard did not die that night. He thought he would. There were several times when he thought he did-the moment his second eye was removed and his vision faded to black, the moment he felt new objects being shoved into those sore, bleeding sockets, the moment when he finally lost consciousness and fell into a restless sleep from which he’d never truly wake. It may have been accurate to say that James Wright died that night. His cold, eyeless body was buried in the yard behind the mansion belonging to Peter Lukas at around 3:00 the following morning. He was not seen at the Magnus Institute that day, and was reported missing by his coworkers and presumed dead a few days later. The man who took his place as head of the Institute was Elias Bouchard.

Elias Bouchard was a middle-aged man with cleanly combed brown hair and cold green eyes and a dress code much more formal than those who worked under him. No one seemed to agree on whether he was the same Elias Bouchard who had been hired as a filing clerk in the seventies and worked at the Institute for nearly twenty years or if he was just a similar-looking man who happened to have the same name. The untimely death of his predecessor may have pointed to foul play on his part if he was the same man; the employees of the Archive had always been wary of the foul-mouthed filing clerk, but most wouldn’t have thought him capable of murder. A stranger taking James’s place would be equally strange, but it was the Magnus Institute after all, and far stranger things had happened in that week alone. Gertrude Robinson insisted it couldn’t have been the same man, her proof being that his eyes were a different colour from that of the former filing clerk. However, she never could find any photos of Elias as proof, and none of the other employees had paid enough attention to his eyes to confidently agree or disagree with her. The demeanor of this new head of the Institute much more closely resembled that of James than it did Elias, however, so most employees took Gertrude’s side in that argument. Two employees disappearing at almost the same time was odd, but it wasn’t exactly unheard of at the Magnus Institute.


End file.
